


The Complexity of Humanity

by bang-the-smoke (708_things)



Series: The Complexity Series [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wizards, Angst, Character Death, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Pre-War, Prequel, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/708_things/pseuds/bang-the-smoke
Summary: Dallon's out for revenge against Litraxia, the kingdom that took everything from him. However, he knows he can't do it alone. He meets two wizards who have that same thirst for revenge, but their group is still too weak to face their opposition. Until they meet the most important person of their lifetime, the savior that was born to lead the war.---Prequel to The Complexity of Magic
Relationships: Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Series: The Complexity Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556557
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Gathering Recruits

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted on wattpad

Dallon Weekes wasn't surprised when he was faced with yet another tragedy.

Another friend of his had passed away, or, rather, been brutally _murdered._ The worst part was, Dallon knew it was coming.

"Ryan, please," he had pleaded. "I know why you want to go, and I respect that. But you can't just expect them to be reasoning!"

His friend had merely flipped his blue fringe out of his eyes. "I know the risks," he said. "I know they kill people like us, but I have to go see it for myself. Maybe if I just act calm, they'll see I'm not a threat."

Dallon was unable to convince him to stay, and barely flinched when the news of his death came back to their camp. Whispers fluttered by, and the aura of sadness around his fellow wizards and witches was almost repugnant. Disgust wretched it's way into his gut.

That kingdom was rotten. They killed every wizard or witch that stepped foot in there, no matter how they presented themselves. A wizard could step in there, words of forgiveness, honesty, and trust on their lips, and come out with a sword through their chest.

They never cared. They never even bothered to consider how the rest of them would live when the King placed the ban.

Many years ago, Litraxia had been a Utopia for the magical and the non magical. They lived in harmony, and one extremist had ruined it all, ruining the reputation of a group that had once never posed a threat. Litraxia never seemed to bother to consider that the wizards and witches whole live's depended on the Kingdom. Twenty years later, they were still scurrying away, hiding away in camps like they were disgusting creatures rather than beautiful creations.

Why did they have to take it? Why were they supposed to still plead for peace when Litraxia had shown them only terror?

Another week passed in their camp, and resolve had made it's way to Dallon. He gathered the attention of some of the wizards and witches among the group that he was close to and announced his plan.

"We should show Litraxia that they can't treat us like this," Dallon proclaimed. "We'll make them regret ever placing the ban. We'll make them all pay."

A wizard among the group, with lime green dyed hair, piped up. "And how will you manage to do that? You couldn't possibly unite all of us."

It was true. There were many wizards and witches who had practically fled to the other side of the planet, but his point was that they shouldn't have had to do that. Dallon wanted to be optimistic, but even he knew that organizing an army of his own would be difficult. "Maybe I can't," Dallon said. "But there's got to be another way. Magic's stronger than any blade."

"Yeah, right." The wizard, Awsten, sighed obnoxiously loudly. "Talk to me when you've fallen back to reality."

He was met with similar responses. All of them didn't believe it was possible. Though he'd love to spend more time swaying them onto his side, he knew he needed other followers desperately, considering he was solo at the moment. "Fine," he said. "I'm going to visit another camp, and I'm going to find other wizards and witches who believe in this. And then I'll come back to show you guys it's not fruitless."

And after that, he gathered his things and left the camp, a giddiness in him. He felt hopeful, like nothing else could ruin his plan. Dallon expected to also face some doubts even among another group, but there _had_ to be others who believed a war was the only way. There was no way all of the wizards were completely fine with the deaths of family, friends, and lovers.

The trek over to the nearest camp only took about two days, and that had been because he was taking a slow pace and taking breaks. Truthfully, most camps were pretty close to each other, in order to make it possible for them all to band together. Camps were mainly designed for around a hundred or so, in order to protect themselves. With that in mind, Dallon entered their camp peacefully, stating that he wanted to talk to some of them. 

He was let in, and immediately his gaze was set on a small group of wizards, split off from the main group. Dallon walked over to them confidently and introduced himself. 

The other wizards introduced themselves as well, and none really stuck out to him. There were two, however, that seemed closer to each other than to the rest of the group. "How many of you have lost someone dear to you because of the kingdom Litraxia?" he questioned.

To be honest, it was a pretty stupid question. Every wizard's hand shot up, with curiosity burning in their eyes. "Okay," he said. "And how many of you wish you could do something about that?"

All of their hands were still raised. "What if I said it was possible?" he began, explaining his plan. "We could make an army, and show them what we got. We could take that kingdom over for what they've done to us!"

Murmurs ran through the group, and hands were dropped, as they were no longer following his thoughts. "You may leave if you don't believe in it," Dallon said, "but if you do, stick around and talk to me."

Five out of the seven wizards ended up leaving, with the two wizards that he had noticed from before still remaining. Dallon smirked, glad he was able to pick that out earlier. "So, you two want to join me?"

"Of course," the first wizard, Pete, replied, as if it were a stupid question. "I want to see that kingdom in ruins."

The other wizard, Patrick, didn't seem as hostile. "I think the people are innocent," he responded. "I think it's just their king that's rotten."

"To do this," Dallon said, "innocents will have to die. Would you be fine with that?"

Patrick seemed conflicted for a moment. But his expression cleared, and he declared, "As long as that king's forced off his throne, I don't mind."

Through the rest of the night, Dallon became more familiar with his two new friends and followers in his movement. He could care less if they were even talented with magic, but the two were quick to reassure him of their worth.

"I do mainly elemental magic," Pete informed, lazily lifting his palm and conjuring a small flame. "Fire, ice, thunder, you name it."

"I see," Dallon nodded. It was practical, and he knew many wizards who's focus was the elementals. He turned to Patrick, "And you?"

Patrick was flustered under the pressure. "Um, I use more of the emotions," he explained carefully. "Some general attacking spells and healing as well."

Pete nudged him. "Show him that thing you can do," he said, detecting Dallon's hesitance. Patrick looked confused for a moment, before he added, "That thing you did, the first time we met?"

"Oh," Patrick replied, then turned to Dallon. His eyes flashed gold as he performed magic, and it was subtle at first. But Dallon felt his anxieties seem to lessen, as well as his doubts. They were still there, but only fractionally remained. It was without his own doing. His jaw dropped.

Pete appeared smug. "Pretty cool, isn't it?"

"How does that even work?" Dallon questioned Patrick curiously. He'd never really encountered magic like that before.

"It's hard to explain," the blond wizard responded shyly. "It's kind of like, opening up someone's mind and searching within it, and just... taking some emotion out. Sometimes, if I take out too much, I have to put it somewhere, and that typically ends up within myself."

Dallon's mind was swimming with the possibilities. "Could you place it in other enemies, theoretically?"

"Well, I guess so," Patrick reasoned. He seemed happy by Dallon's interest.

Meanwhile, Dallon was remembering how the emotions already originally existed within him. "Could you add anything, even if it doesn't already exist within them?"

"I don't really know," Patrick sheepishly smiled. "I don't normally use it against people, but in theory... I think I could."

Dallon nodded to himself. The two wizards he recruited seemed to be more useful than he had thought. "Well, we'll have to train before we actually go into war anyway," he mused. "Especially when we recruit the entire army."

Both Patrick and Pete agreed to this. 

With those two by his side, Dallon felt more confident in his abilities to take revenge against the kingdom that had wronged him and his people.   
  



	2. Whispers of the Ritual

It was clear to the three wizards that continuing on with their plan required more people. Magic was powerful, but three wizards weren't able to take on hundreds, maybe thousands, of soldiers. Pete and Patrick attempted to talk with other members of the camp, considering they knew them better than Dallon did. Their efforts seemed to be unsuccessful.

"I don't know why they're acting like this," Pete sighed. "The choice should be easy. It's always been the wizards versus the Kingdom."

Patrick, on the other hand, seemed sympathetic. "It's a hard decision to make, Pete," he reminded him. "Some of them have more at stake."

"Like what?" Pete rolled his eyes. "Family members? I guarantee that most of the family they originally had are dead."

"Friends," Patrick answered, softly. "If you hadn't joined in for this, I wouldn't have either."

Pete's annoyance faded away. "Oh," he replied, quieter. "Yeah... That makes more sense."

Dallon took that argument at face value. If friendship really was holding some people back, like Patrick hypothesized, then perhaps getting just a couple more people could persuade even more to join in? If their friends join in, they would feel more pressure to also join.

"I'll try to talk to someone else," Dallon offered. "Who'd you guys talk to?"

"Alex and Jack," Patrick answered. "They might ease into it. They just seemed afraid."

An idea popped into his mind. "Patrick," he spoke slowly. "This might seem unorthodox, but have you considered using that power of yours to your advantage?"

A conflicted expression crossed Patrick's face. "What, just peek into what they're feeling? Isn't that wrong?"

"This is war," Pete interrupted, placing a reassuring hand on Patrick's shoulder. "There are no boundaries."

Pete then turned to face Dallon. "We'll try talking to them again later," he promised, but Patrick had already stood up, leaving their small group. "Or not," he joked.

Dallon chuckled, before his mind cleared and focused on more of his plans. The recruitment process might take long, but he needed to think about what was going to happen after. Once they have the numbers, what would they do?

There has to be some sort of strategy involved. Of course, taking Litraxia by surprise should help, but many blindsides like that have still gone astray. He frowned, as he kept thinking.

"I feel like I should tell you this now," Pete suddenly spoke up. Dallon's eyes flickered over to him, seeing the serious expression on his face. Dallon urged him to continue. "I know you're thinking Patrick's a weak link."

Dallon didn't bother to deny it. It was true that he thought that; between the three of them, Patrick seemed to be the most emotional. Normally, being emotional isn't a bad thing, but when it comes to war... "You don't need to stick up for him."

"I don't think you understand," Pete insisted. He was eerily calm, no longer appearing as a joker. "I think it's important for you to know that he'll always be my first priority."

Dallon already knew they were close. It had been fairly obvious to him when they met, but he didn't realize how far it seemed to go. "I understand," he replied. If Ryan were still alive, he would've said the same thing. Ryan had been a priority to him as well, but he wasn't able to persuade him to stay away from Litraxia. He wasn't able to keep him alive.

Caring seemed like a disadvantage. A nuisance, even.

"If you keep him alive, there shouldn't be any problems," Pete stated, keeping his tone light. "He keeps me right."

He couldn't promise anything. "I'll try my best."

Pete seemed appeased by this.

Pete left shortly after, leaving Dallon to himself. He knew he wanted to set up a training session soon. It was imperative that he fully understands his followers skills. Knowing this, he decided to go talk to someone else in the camp for the moment.

He stumbled onto a witch who was by herself, staring out into the distance. "Hello," he greeted.

Her eyes met his. "Oh, it's you," she said. "I've heard from the others, what you're trying to do."

"Well," Dallon prompted, "what do you think?"

"I don't think I'll be helpful to you," she immediately said. "I'm not very powerful on my own. But I can offer you information..."

Information, huh? Dallon grinned, trying to appear as easygoing. "Like what?"

"I'm not sure how many rumors you pay attention to," the witch said. "But I would think you've heard about the Urie's."

And Dallon had. The Urie's were decently powerful, though that's not what they were known for. They were known for their death, and it had been told that they died performing a ritual. Though there were many guesses about the ritual, Dallon wasn't sure anyone knew the truth.

But the witch's brown eyes held wisdom and knowledge, and when she spoke her truth, Dallon felt convinced. "I see things, sometimes," she explained. "And I believe I've seen the outcome of that ritual."

Dallon listened, enraptured. "Please, go on, Miss..." he trailed off, realizing he didn't know her name.

"You can call me Melanie," she replied, grinning slightly. "I saw their son."

"Their son?" Dallon's words sounded disbelieving. He had never heard the Urie's had a son. But even if that were true, why did they need a ritual? "Surely, they could've just had him normally."

"Maybe," Melanie agreed. "I think they wanted more than just a son. They wanted a weapon, and gave up their lives for it."

Melanie recalled how she had seen him. Her Sight, as she called it, wasn't something she could control. She had seen him, though he had only been a child back then, around ten or so. He was alone, which had perplexed her. Nothing had perplexed her more than the aura around him.

"I'd never felt anything like it," she sighed. "His magic... there was so much of it."

"He could be useful, if he's powerful," Dallon noted to himself. "But if he's a child, he can't fight."

"I Saw him years ago," Melanie reminded him, frowning. "He's reached adulthood, by now."

Melanie lamented that she couldn't tell him much else, not even knowing the boy's first name. He was just happy he got anything at all out of it.

The boy was an interesting lead.

Later, when Dallon shared this information with the other two wizards, the two were in disbelief. "So, we're going after him?" Pete questioned.

"Not exactly," Dallon replied. "I think it might be valuable if we could find him, but I'm not sure we will. It'll just be something extra we do on the side."

Patrick seemed thoughtful. "I'd heard about the Urie's before," he said. "Heard they were vengeful against Litraxia, would've done anything to get rid of them."

They sounded like people Dallon would've wanted to recruit. Strong feelings of resentment against the enemy was critical for the army. "Perhaps the son is the key," he added.

Power was everything, and if the Urie boy has it, then Dallon just might need to find him. 


	3. Target Acquired

Just a few days later, the three split paths. Well, Patrick and Pete were going to one camp together, and Dallon was going to another. He didn't really think the two were willing to seperate, so he didn't even bother to ask.

Dallon didn't want to admit it, but he was far more interested in the Urie kid than gathering his army. It sounded ridiculous, but going around place to place talking people's ear off about war wasn't great. Sure, it was what he believed in, but it was hard to continue doing it when the others were so very doubtful. If he wants to take down Litraxia, he can't do it alone, and yet, he can barely get anyone to help him.

That's why he sent the other two out on recruitment duties. The two complied without question. And Dallon made it to this new camp, set by a river, in need of a wizard or witch who was decent in location spells.

Questioning one wizard directed him to a witch named Lana. Lana was otherworldly, but he didn't let that intimidate him. "I've heard you're good at performing spells to locate people," Dallon stated, rather than introducing himself.

"You've heard correctly, then," Lana smiled at him. "How may I help you?"

"What do you need in order to do it?"

"At least a name," Lana supplied. "I've trained my Sight to do more than give me visions, but I need a general direction for it to work."

This was where he was stuck. "Alright, listen," he began. "I know this sounds... weird, but I need you to help me find the Urie's son. I have no idea what his first name is, though."

"I can try my best."

Lana told him to come back to see her the next morning. When he does, she tells him that she found him. She directs him to his general vicinity, and tells him to hurry up, because she had the feeling Urie was leaving soon.

As Dallon made his way there, he went over what he knew. The boy was isolated, and didn't live in any of the camps set up. It was a perplexing choice that begged the question: Why is he alone? 

And, the more twisted question: Could Dallon use his isolation to his advantage?

When he stumbled onto him, onto his little tent in the middle of the woods, he realized that his work was cut out for him. The wizard was staring into a lit fire, the embers illuminating his face. It was nearly dusk now, the journey taking not as long as he expected.

It took the other wizard a moment to realize his presence. He looked up, and smiled. Why would he smile?

Why would he smile at a stranger? Shouldn't he be fearful, or something?"

"Hello!" The younger wizard beamed. "Who are you?"

"My name's Dallon," he said, "and you are?" Perhaps this was the wrong person?

The wizard seemed to clutch at his amulet before answering, "Brendon, Brendon Urie." Dallon suspected the amulet was a family heirloom, which only interested him more. Was it perhaps connected to his power?

And, power. Dallon's always been able to detect magic off other wizards and witches. All of them can, in a way. All of them can tell by the distinct feel of magic around them that tells them that they are one of the same. Humans don't have that aura, which makes it easier to distinguish them from their kind.

Magic's coming off Brendon in waves. It seems to envelope him like a soft blanket would cover a baby, gently and carefully. Dallon's never felt anything like this before.

"It's nice to meet you," Dallon replied.

After that quick introduction, Brendon easily lets him in and the two are conversing like they've known each other for days, rather than just mere minutes. It's so foolish of him, so foolish to be this trusting. It's as if Brendon could never picture anyone of having nefarious purposes.

He wondered if it's never crossed his mind before. He could easily be an enemy; hell, he could be from Litraxia, and here he is, treating him like he's an old friend. _So trusting_.

"You don't have to be alone," Dallon told him, gently. "Maybe going to one of the camps might be a bit much, but... It could just be us, and two of my friends."

Brendon shuffled around nervously, tilting his head to gaze up at him. "Are you sure that's... fine?"

"Of course," Dallon said, quick to reassure him. "They're both pretty nice."

But Brendon didn't seem satisfied with his answer. His gaze traveled back over to the open fire, and his voice was carefully controlled as he gritted out, "Why do you want me around? What do you _want_ from me?"

It was clear Dallon had made a false assumption. Sure, Brendon was trusting, but that didn't necessarily mean he was entirely naive. Perhaps honesty was the best policy.

It's not like he was able to get his help without mentioning why he needs help. He's feeling worried, but he explained about how he was trying to gather an army to start a war. Brendon's still not looking at him, and that makes him feel more confident. He just has to keep his voice steady.

"And you think I can help you?" Brendon sighed, almost exasperatedly.

"I think you could."

His eyes were lit up golden when they gazed on him again. "I think you're stupid," he admitted.

"What?" Dallon questioned. "You think that the war can't happen?"

Brendon shook his head. "No. I think you're stupid to believe that's the answer to the problem. What comes after the revenge and all the deaths?"

The world stood still. His breath was caught in his throat. Somehow, nobody else had questioned him about the after. What happens after war? If they win, what will they even do? Somehow, he hadn't even questioned that himself.

Dallon found himself grinning, despite the fact that he was cut offguard. "See, this is why I want your help," he chuckled. "Clearly, you're the brains of this operation."

Brendon laughed as well, almost unsure if he should. His eyes faded back to their normal color, a warm brown. "I guess I'll give you a chance, Dallon. Just don't make me regret it."

Dallon felt himself shiver. It was unlike him to feel threatened, especially not by a wizard, someone of his kind. But Brendon had potential, potential that he was reminded of by the thick aura of magic around him. He had the power to make Dallon regret everything.

And so, as the two were tidying up Brendon's little camping area, Dallon told himself he couldn't afford to make mistakes. Getting him on his side was risky, but it was probably his only real shot of achieving this.


	4. Night time Bonding

Meeting back up with Pete and Patrick went well. Dallon quickly introduced them to Brendon, and vice versa.

They got along pretty well, and Pete and Brendon quickly fell into a conversation. While the two were occupied, Dallon made a request. "Patrick, can you read him?" he asked, nodding over at Brendon.

Patrick frowned. "You don't trust him?"

"It's not that," he disagreed, even though it was true. Brendon seemed nice enough, but there was no commitment yet. He hadn't really pledged to be on their side, though frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted that to happen. Imagining the fellow wizard with devotion swirling in his eyes made him feel sick. "I just want to know how he's feeling."

Patrick nodded, a little hesitant. Dallon looked away for a moment, as if giving him privacy. When Patrick announced, "I'm not sure what to make of him," he's not shocked.

"You can't read him at all?"

"I can... his mind just feels... messy, I guess. Like he's lost."

A lost wizard, huh? He supposed that made sense, in Brendon's case. But speculation is different than outright knowledge, and questioning the wizard could push him away. Dallon wanted him to be close, and right where he wants him.

"Thank you," he replied.

Later, his three companions turn to him when it's evident that it's time to progress. It was easy enough to decide what's on the agenda. "Training," he explained. "I intend to be able to trust you three with my life, and you will have important roles within the army."

This, of course, already implies a level of trust. Brendon and Patrick looked nervous, while Pete looked determined.

When the training session begins, Dallon can see it all. He can see the soldiers falling one by one, and the King's disraught look on his face and the light leaving his eyes. He can see Litraxia's fall.

And it's all because of Brendon.

Pete had convinced his fellow wizard to duel him. He practically played with him like he was a ragdoll, and it was all so effortless that it left Dallon breathless. The magic surrounding Brendon was intoxicating. The potential within him shines so brightly.

This is how he fights a comrade. A little bloodthirst can turn him into a monster, carelessly ending the lives of those who oppose their kind.

Brendon's imperative to his cause, this, he knows. Maybe he's a little hesitant to do it, but Dallon doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. He was going to get Brendon to do what is needed to be done, no matter what.

\---

It's night time, the crescent moon illuminating the pitch black sky. Stars are shining, and Dallon can't find it in himself to allow himself to sleep. This was a common occurrence for him, mainly because he had so much to think about. Before planning this war of his, he would ponder how to survive, how to live through losing so many people.

Dallon sighed, knowing it was going to be a rough night. He exited their tent, and walked over to the bonfire. "Can't sleep?" Brendon's voice seemed rough and scratchy.

"Nope, and you?" 

"I've just been thinking," Brendon said, and Dallon knew this was an opportunity. An opportunity to get closer to him, reel him in on this idea of his.

"What about?" Dallon inquired. Before the other wizard could offer any reason to hold back, he added, "I'm a great listener."

"Right," Brendon sighed, not convinced. "Look, okay? I get what you're doing, but I guess I'll talk anyways."

Dallon listened as the wizard told him that he had been thinking about Dallon's plans, and how he had been pondering over the idea of the war. Getting involved, he said, was a different manner than just supporting it, to which Dallon agreed.

"I'd always known this is what I was made for," the wizard let out a puff of air. His fingers seemed to grope at the amulet around his neck. The amulet was a copper looking color, and there was a faint hum of magic around it. "This was the only thing my parents left behind for me," he explained. 

"Do you think it's important?" Dallon replied. "Like, there's a specific reason they left that specific one?"

"I don't know," Brendon truthfully answered, shrugging. "When I was younger, it never mattered to me. I didn't even care why, it was just a way for me to... latch onto something. I don't think you would understand."

"Try me." His tone was challenging, almost bitter. Litraxia had really taken a lot from him, and Brendon too, it seemed. It wasn't as obvious as what he's seen from other wizards, but that was because Litraxia had effected him in a roundabout way. If that Kingdom never went after their kind, his parents never wanted a weapon, and never would've performed that ritual. But this was not to suggest that they never would've had Brendon; his life just would've been fundamentally different, and he would've had parents to assist him.

"It's tough being alone," Brendon admitted, after a moment of silence had fallen between the two of them. As Dallon looked at him now, he could see how the younger wizard was truly effected. The wizard was lying down, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, and there was a certain look in his eyes that reminded him of Ryan, in a way. His benevolence, but the quiet sadness in those eyes. "My parents did leave me with someone, but they were killed too, when I was still young. He told me all my parent's wishes for me."

"I'm sure they're proud, no matter what you do with the life they gave you," he offered, trying to be comforting.

"No. My parents wouldn't have laid down their lives if they hadn't truly wished it for me. I know this, and to honor them, sometimes I do want to enact their revenge."

"But?"

"Guess I'm just a bit too soft," Brendon chuckled, gazing away at the sky to look at him. "You know, Dally, you were right. You are a good listener."

He felt himself smile. "Don't call me Dally, that's not my name."

Inside, he felt a little warm. It was nice to talk to him, no matter how much he convinced himself that this was just to get him completely on his side.

When Brendon decided to finally catch some sleep, he wasn't even disappointed. He should've wanted more, wanted more details of his life, got more into his hesitations that he had laughed off. But he didn't.

Oh no, he thought to himself. I think I like him. 


End file.
